Second Chance
by Wild Dog- untamed cainine
Summary: Eli Loker, after being demoted to an unpaid intern is struggling to make ends meet. Forced to get a second job working nightshifts, can he win back Lightman's trust? Or will fate take a turn for the worst?
1. Night Shift

**"Second Chance"**

** Chapter 1**

**-Wild dog, the untaimable cainine**

*Beep*

*Beep*

*Beep*

The routinely quick noise of the checkout scanner was a dull drone in Eli Loker's ear as he passed item over item over the little red laser light. His legs ached from standing; his stomach was squeezing itself, gurgling for food. Leaning on one leg, the dark haired man stifled a yawn. Working two jobs, one taking up the bulk of the day with no pay- and the other working for ten dollars an hour at a 24/7 food mart had seriously begun to impact the smooth lifestyle he enjoyed.

Dimly, Loker realised there were no more packages of food on the belt. Packing the last tin can into the red striped plastic bag he glanced at the digital green number figure.

"Sixty-two dollars, eighty three cense" he spoke tonelessly to the customer. If Loker had been less tired, he may have noticed the soft curves of the female customer, the sparkle of her brown eyes and the bounce of her chocolate hair over her scarf, thus seizing the chance to flirt. But at 11:20 at night and being less than half way through his shift, his only priority was his soft bed waiting at home.

The young woman ruffled through her wallet and went to hand Eli the folded bills. Her gloved hand waited in the air for five long seconds as she waited for her money to be taken by the male staff member. The man serving her was gazing at something invisible over her shoulder with glazed eyes, as if he were in a slight trance.

"Errr... hello?"

Eli jumped as if he had been shocked "Oh..ahh, sorry" he stuttered as she gave a little wave with the money in her hand "Ah, thank you" quickly taking the folded noted he opened the rattling till and exchanged the bills for her change.

"Have a nice night" he spoke softly as she smiled and departed with groceries in hand. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes. No one else was in the store now for company or conversation, unless one counted Kevin the obese and intolerable security guard posted outside the automatic doors. Kevin was not known for his general knowledge or patience to say the least, and was certainly not one of Loker's was desirable people to share a conversation with. Kevin had seemed to 'switch off' from Loker ever since he found out the young psychologist worked for Dr. Lightman. The common 'hello' or 'goodbye' was non-existent towards Loker in Kevin's vocabulary, only a grunt to acknowledge the young employer's presence.

Loker had tried to shrug this behaviour for the joke of jealousy; Kevin being balder then a bowling ball compared to his fine dark locks of wavy hair. However when he found himself acting more sensible and relying on the years of practicing and training under the eyes of Cal Lightman, Loker knew that the body language radiating from Kevin towards him were acts of aggression... but why or from what, he didn't know or understand.

Gazing up at the ceiling patterned with electric lights Loker stretched his arms above his head, lengthening his tall frame as his stomach grumbled again reminding him of his poor diet. '_The hell with this_' Loker grumbled. In one fluid motion he leaned over the edge of the counter reaching out for the first chocolate bar within arm's reach. Stripping off the wrapper, he chomped half of it down with one bite. Within the next mouthful, the bar was gone leaving the dark haired man still unfilled and unsatisfied. Having one he could get away with, but two or three snacks would cause the boss to review his pay check.

Loker couldn't afford to have any money docked from his pay check. He barely scrapped by each week with the rent and a few spare dollars for cheap bulk food, such as rice or a packet of two minute noodles. The first few weeks of adjusting had been the hardest, but now it had become routine.

...Work.

...Work

...Sleep.

...Work

...Work

...Sleep

The routine had its 'downs' and... 'downs'. For example, he would go to bed tired, wake up tired and feel like a walking zombie for the rest of the day. The reflexive sharpness he once had in recognising facial expressions and body physiology had started to slip. Nothing major at first, just misplacing a few little upturns of the lip or clench of the jaw, but then it was misjudging one expression for another and failing to notice key body movements altogether. Every time this happened Dr Cal Lightman's voice would echo in his head "_From now on you'll be paid what you're worth....which is nothing_"

"_...worth...nothing_"

Loker sighed. He couldn't deny it, but those words had stung. For a while, they had left his self worth low. Yet it wasn't the only reason he felt so depressed or angry at himself and his poor situation, it was the fact that he had not only endangered his job, but the new career of a successful, natural and beautiful dark haired Ria Lorres. For her to cover his hide, had been a big ask, and Loker wasn't so sure he'd have done the same thing for so long if he had been in her shoes.

Eli sighed and ran a hand through his dark wavy hair. Glancing at his watch, the small glass face read 11:30. Another half hour and he would officially be half way though his shift, before finishing at 2am. Shifting his stance from leaning on one leg to another, he gazed around the store listening to the background music of the local radio station playing softly over the speakers.

The mobile phone in his pocket brought Loker back to the present with a jolt, interrupting the quiet atmosphere with a snappy ring tone commanding the young man's attention. Pulling the phone out from his jeans, the orange and black digits blared:

_Caller ID: __**Lightman**_

Loker inwardly sighed. He couldn't go to the institute now! Not whilst he was work... not really working, but more rather being paid to stand in case anyone came in at this hour of the night... to earn the money he so desperately needed

Knowing he couldn't avoid the inevitable, he held the phone up to his ear and pressed the 'talk' button "...Loker"

Lightman didn't waste any time "Loker, I'm going to need you to come in. We have a case a few blocks away from the office. Can I see you in five?"

"Uhh... I don't think I'll be able to make it boss"

His boss's voice was stern "Be there" and promptly hung up

Loker inwardly screamed _"I can't!"_ He had enough trouble finding a job, let along being able to keep it... Loker had still 'purposefully forgotten' to mention his secondary career to his colleagues as what many would call a 'check-out-chick' at the institute where his co-workers had doctrines, double degrees and various other qualifications, where he was an unpaid intern struggling to make ends meet in night shifts. He knew not telling the whole truth was a form of lying, leading to another inner conflict with his philosophy of 'radical honesty'... but did he really want Ben Reynolds to rub this in his face?.... telling them could wait. In the meantime, he needed someone to fill in for him... someone asides Kevin the cranky obese security guard outside the automatic door... the answer came to him in an instant-

Tom!

Thomas Campbell was a ginger haired nineteen year old store room boy who worked the night shift out the back, splitting boxes, restacking shelves and loading stock that had been delivered during the day to its correct location in the cool-room. If Tom were to cover for him, he'd owe him something painful, like one of his CDs, DVDs or a lift home every day of the next fortnight.

That was option one. Option two was facing an angry Lightman tomorrow morning.

Loker was stuck between a rock and a hard place... He had to go with Tom. Shoving his phone deep back into his pocket he left the counter and took the journey down the aisle to the back double door marked with capital red block letters "_staff entry only_"

No matter how matter how many times Loker passed through those doors, he could never hold in the shiver in his spine from the short blast of cold air, created by a draft from the cool-room. Even in the current state of winter with multiple clothing layers, he was still unprepared for the mandatory breeze.

"Loke-dog, wassup man?" Tom's colloquial language echoed through the store room, the precise location of the speaker hidden from view by vast rows of shelves. The dark haired man never could understand how Tom could see him, but never in a million years could he spy Tom

Loker uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck. He had been dreading this part; the asking "Ahh... I was wondering if would you be able to stand in for me... right now?"

A box dropped somewhere behind the shelves "Wha, at the counter?"

"Only for half a shift" Loker tried to reason

"Uhuh... not gonna happen" the soft 'thuds' of box stacking on box continued

"Please Tom, I need this"

The atmosphere was cut with the shrill ripping of tape "Just like ya' needed it the las' two times"

"I could get fired!"

"From both jobs, if Kevin sees ya' sneakin' out early again" The teen's voice replied evenly, pared with the soft sound of sliding as a package was pushed into its home on the shelf

Loker was growing desperate. He had to be where Lightman was "... You can have the snacks from my shifts for the next week" he bribed

"Nah, I can eat as much as I like outta these boxes here with ain't no one noticing" he stopped packing and paused "Whatta' 'bout that play-station o' yours?"

The young psychologist kicked himself. He knew something like this was coming "... you want to borrow that for a week? Sure"

Tom's red mop of hair shot out from behind the end shelf with an impish grin plastered over his face "Two weeks, and ya' got ya'self a deal" slanged the store room boy, extending the bribe.

Loker was cornered, and agreed signing the bargain with the one reluctant word; "Deal"


	2. Dangerous Plans

**Second chance**

**chapter 2**

**-Wild Dog-**

~*~~*~~*~~*~

A bitter cold breeze fought its way through the fabric of Dr. Cal Lightman's coat, biting into his skin causing him to shiver in the winter atmosphere. His breath was smoking in the low temperature as his surroundings swarmed with flashing lights and police stamping around, marking boundaries with tape. Beside him in stiff stance, was his colleague and partner Dr. Gillian Foster.

Foster, wrapped in a charcoal coat shivered into her scarf as her partner filled her in. For the fifth time in the past forty-eight hours, a local store had been held up at gunpoint for quick cash and run. Every incident in the past two days had been linked by the likeness of the description of the offenders; three men, each heavily built clothed in black with ski masks cloaking their faces. Each execution of the crime had been the same in plot, plan and consequence thus far

Foster's frowned in confusion, speaking as the cold environment made her breath smoke "So why have we been called to a simple police job? The security cameras can vouch for their honesty- we shouldn't need to be here"

"Ah" said Lightman, who had at first wondered the same thing "This time, it was different. One of the customers in the shop tried to play hero and take them down. He damned nearly succeeded, and left us a casualty"

Her voice carried her surprise "So... where is our civilian hero now?"

"Base Hospital with a concussion and a bullet in his knee... Thing is, the thug he took down is the key to finding the other two. Problem is"-

"-he's not talking?" She finished with a grin. Since ww3orking together for long periods of time and constantly analysing body psychology, Lightman and Foster had begun to be able to predict how the other would react, behave and quite often say, finishing each other's sentences... and at times, shifting dangerously close to the line in the sand that set the boundary between close friends and intimacy.

The psychologist nodded, slipping his hand deep into his coat pocket and pulled out his slender silver phone "Meantime, let's get Lorres and Loker down here"

Foster's analytical sharp eyes watched Lightman as his eyebrows knitted together with a mixture of anger and confusion as he punched in the numbers on the phone. If she hadn't seen his lips move out the corner of his mouth, she wouldn't have believed he had cursed:

"Stupid phone"

A siren wailed in the distance as Lightman brought the object to his ear, whilst plugging his other ear with his hand in a poor attempt to block background noise. The first ring snapped his attention as he prepared himself for what he was about to say to Loker; something quick, simple and straight to the point. After five slow rings had dawdled on, he was prepared to hang up and try Lorres.

Suddenly, the line connected. On the other end of the premature conversation there was a pause, followed by a hesitant answer of a name

"...Loker"

Lightman didn't waste any time "Loker, I'm going to need you to come in. We have a case a few blocks away from the office. Can I see you in five?"

Again, a hesitant response "Uhh... I don't think I'll be able to make it boss"

The leading psychologist concluded with a sharp, "Be there"

Promptly pressing the red button hanging up he paused for a moment, taping the phone to his chin in thought. For the length of time it took Loker to pick up the phone and then bring himself to answer without a tone of weariness, had been a clear behaviour pattern of avoidance. But when he asked to see him soon, his answer was as if he was tied down with a previous or current commitment... girl friend perhaps? No. Loker's own radical honesty would have informed everyone of his happiness, luck, and what he defined as his 'magnetic charm' to the whole office if he did... so what could occupy the young man at this hour of the night? Was that why he had been slipping up increasingly more over the past weeks?

He mentally stopped himself from going any further. The unspoken rule about being in this business was to turn a blind eye to colleague's problems so as not to pry, or get involved as long as they left their emotions at the door. It was practice to use analytical skills of observation in micro expressions and body psychology against offenders, not on friends. All he employed were strong- hard headed... they could take care of themselves. Problem was, after using the analytical observational skills for so long, it wasn't something Dr Lightman could easily "switch off"... but if Loker was involved in something that affected his abilities at work then technically, it became his business. After all, the young man worked under, and therefore carried his name- he had to make sure it was upheld.

Foster wrapped her arms around her body in a poor effort to keep warm as she watched her comrade as he subconsciously tapped his phone against his chin in concentration.

"Anything wrong?" she pried

Lightman didn't make eye contact "Loker's a maybe"

Foster raised an eyebrow "And the problem?"

Coming to a conclusion on what he should do, Cal slid the phone back into the folds of his coat, deep within his pocket "Just keep an eye over him from now on"

~*~~*~~*~~*~

Loker calmly walked out of the store room doors, adjusting to the warmer temperature of the shop. He was half way there. He had someone to cover for him and now he just had to sneak out of the building and get to Lightman.

The last major hurdle he had to jump over was to make it past Kevin. The beefy security guard stood at the outside corner of the store. From that point of view, all he merely had to do was turn around to monitor the only two sides of the building with entrances; the front automatic doors and the roller door down the side which opened up onto the store room, allowing for the delivery of stock from trucks. Nobody could enter or leave without him seeing or knowing.

Under these circumstances, other employees may have excused themselves for making up a family tragedy, forgetting to turn off an electrical appliance at home or faking sickness. To Loker and his practice of radical honesty, all and each of these mean the use of unnecessary _lies_. Untruths and dishonesty, the key features he had tried to eradicate from his personality- which stopped him from walking out the electronic doors and speaking falsely to the bald man.

He was caught between a rock and a hard place. He could either lie, going against his own personal philosophy of radical honesty- or tell the truth to Kevin, who would report this to his Boss and risk getting fired- a risk he could not afford to make.

Walking up the isle to the check out belts, the dark haired psychologist leaned against the counter, waiting for Tom to finish unpacking and relieve his position at the front. If he had the young store room boy help him escape, then that would cost him an extra two weeks lending of the play station... and they way Tom took care of his belongings, Loker wasn't sure it'd manage to survive one week let alone two.

No, he had to think of something.

~*~~*~~*~~*~

Dumping groceries into the boot of her car, the female customer tightened her scarf around her and slid into the front seat of the black sedan. The car was parked outside the store car park on the side of the main street, in the dark shadow between streetlights. Coming out of the store, she had taken mental notes and specific details about everything she had seen:

There had only been one worker at the checkout; young, thinly built, dark haired male- all by himself in the store. No real threat.

Only three security cameras hung in the whole premises; the first on the corner monitoring the two entrances, which swivelled every thirty seconds. This would give her team just enough time to park around the unattended side of the store without being seen and enter under a blind eye. The second camera had been at the back of the store near the store room, and the third towards the front. The chocolate haired woman thought of the third camera with a glossy red smile; from what her bald-headed reliable source had told her, that camera had been out of action for the past week and a half.

Her team would be able to make it in and out the store in two minutes, making it the sixth store hold up in the past 48 hours, and within any luck- a new record.

The young woman's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shrill shriek of her phone. Quickly snatching it up, she flipped it open with a gloved hand answering sweetly:

"Colette"

She heard heavy breathing by the caller, as if he had been sprinting "We've got a problem"

"_What happened?_"

The caller swallowed "The last run didn't go smoothly- a customer fought back. Todd's been nabbed by the feds"

Colette contained the anger mingled with panic welling in her chest. In a commanding tone, she seized leadership "We have to bring our plans ahead of schedule. We have one more hit then we make it for the state boarder. Todd is left behind"

The voice on the other end of the line was uncertain "But... will we be able to do it with only two people?"

The chocolate haired woman turned her head to squint at the large person who stood at the corner of the store "Don't you worry. I already have a replacement"

The surprise and curiosity was evident in the caller's voice "_Who?_"

Colette would not been swayed to tell "See you in five" snapping the phone shut she watched the man in uniform standing at the corner of the store glance at his watch, then turning to leave his post unattended as he walked into the shadows of the night. In this next hit, she had originally planned four people; one to watch the outside coast, another to check for people in the store and two to make sure their demands were met as the money was handed over by gunpoint over the counter. All while she kept the engine running outside for a speedy get-away

Todd being captured was a drawback, but he was replaceable- she was sure her boys could do it with three people. And besides, no one had entered the store since she had last been in; the parking lot was bare, pardoning one car which belonged to the only worker at the cash register.

It would be easy

~*~~*~~*~~*~

"Loker, you are a genius!"

It was perfect. He wouldn't need Tom's costly help, he wouldn't need to lie and he would be able to make it to work without being suspected by Kevin.

Rather than exit as the employer he was, he'd gather a few small empty colourful boxes and load them into several plastic bags. Then if he turned his reversible jacket inside out, put his hood up with his sunglasses over his eyes, he would look like just another regular late night shopper as he left the store with groceries in hand.

He grinned to himself... Pure brilliance!

~*~~*~~*~~*~


End file.
